For some years now I’ve had a recurring dream, at least I think I have … it’s so simple to “impart” the feeling of deja-vu that it very easily could have been the very first time I had this particular dream, and I could still be made … to believe … with all my heart and all m mind–to absolutely sure that I’ve had it three or four times until this moment that it conveyed something … important enough to drive me out of bed and take some notes on it immediately. It’s something like “the syringe” … maybe another newly intersection “private connection” from the movie Dark City … memories being altered as if some kind of recipe list for … well in that movie it sure does seem like it was “how do we end ourselves soup” that the Illuminated "no n" creatorish group was trying to cook up.

That’s what happened in the film, they woke up a human they had created like a lump of clay and he ended them all, using the same technology they had used to perpetuate night after night of … “we’ll just try this another way” swapping people’s memories, a notable mornings’ light “the rich get richer and the poor get poorer” as the City shifted that day’s reality growing some banquet table to fill a newly enlarged Mansion and … as another hut shrunk to note the sheer idiocy of the idea that there must some sort of “space constraint” on the total size and number of football fields you can walk into through the magical gate … the only bedroom door on Atlantis.

The process of putting this introduction on paper “intersected” some other early memories from the beginning of this story that was uh, well “it was the strangest of times this life had ever known, it was the end of time.” That’s always how I internalized the scene I see every day now, the words I spoke to describe the thing that I call “on” or “seeing e” … sort of walking down the street thinking something that might be important to me, and maybe some other people would be interested in talking about how Dark City and “Waiting for the Sun” connect to each other … but certainly you’d imagine that the entire street would never be so interested as to all turn and “glare or smile” … depending on which “IT” this “e” happens to be in the time map encoded in the word “Heaven.”

I'm sort in "in lkine editing" ... at the last moment pointing out that phrase "the end of time" that I erat so fand of parroting is quite literally defined as "e" ... as the thing that, well, it's the thing that I see that I call the end of time. Our first "T" long past, I don't believe that you dlon't see it's the timeline and it's creator ... again, parroting "see how I stop time" with a glowing YMCA figurine walking down the street--pointing out that we are lost somewhere between Avenue L and K Street ...

... and my newest "for example" between id and erat I've now noticed "EO" and absolute GOLD have been hidden away or moved ... in these four letters "MVRD" that have somehow fill in all the useful blanks between "I" and "E" words like "IME" instead of time, "IRE" instead of mire, "IVE" instead of you ... BURHEAU AUBINTU MMY

... IDE instead of your sick grotesque dark Earth, an integrated development environment to take the ashes of Edom and make something worth fighting to save from -- clear, clear as day, the absolute shit continuing to fail to speak and communicate and add any truth to this place of glowing fiery bright light -- all around the darkness, all around you ... that thing doesn't need to continue--and you should know that, and believe that, and want to make yourselves better--into something that wouldn't ... not care if you are burning in a fiery inferno right before your eyes, or in the next room over--just outside the only thing you seem to care about, which is yourself, and something that is absolutely invisible here--most likely clearly the cause of Hell.

auginted resusretion aschd > on i, z'ing "gne"

Literally that’s what Meudsa or “E” or “D” or … “IL” looks like up close, it looks like the very last moments of time … the whole world listening to my thoughts and literally appearing unable to respond in any way more intelligently or individually or … interstingly … than one unified facial expression. Don’t get me wrong, two facial expressions … that’s still the end of time to me–I used to see this scene every once in awhile, usually only when I was “Most High” … which always delivered the impression that it was some kind of hack, a hallucination imparted from “the machine,” frankly I always thought it was a warning to the Illuminati or the “thought police” or; well, I never thought I’d be seeing it every single day, every time I walk on the street–but I do. That’s where I am.

I suppose it’s still possible that it’s a localized event, you’d think something like that would definitely have made the news by now if you were anything but mind invaders; I mean. By localized event, I mean it could be in my head, and maybe some of yours–separated from the shared reality that would be dead in it’s eyes and heart if it it thought there was some logical reason to simply “ignore it” and wait for it to stop on its own. Before I forget, the intersected phrase here was “they’re not mind readers” which is something that was always echoed about … well, about all of you–about the world around me in the strange communications that I got from “the Universe” through this process of figuring out that the beginning and the end of time were somehow “connected” by more than a simple idea, by the truth. It would come to me in horoscopes, in years when every horoscope I read for every sign was a message directly to me, about me, with the kind of detailed information … I mean, I might as well be John Nash pinning them up on the wall and using it as a lens or a maze to find Keifer Sutherland and his captor city.

Captivated, a rapt au die n c e, you might say; it’s hard to tell if the cars screaming by … I mean their drivers believe that the thing they’re doing, I imagine driving to work or to dinner or to pick up their kids from the ball game; if they think those things are worthwhile or not, in the grand scheme of things. My answer of course, is they’re not–they’re superfluous insignificant events that pale and shrink in the shadow of “ignoring the most important problem that I’ve ever seen” … ignoring that you all appear today to be mind readers, and that’s the last thing I want to save about you… or see in you. On the other hand, we’re still here, reading these words on paper because you get up in the morning and drive to work, because this world and it’s “machinations” appear to continue to tick and function properly–because it still appears that despite the “layer of nonsense” that “civilization” hasn’t crumbled under the maelstrom of silence. My greatest fear, Jim’s singing in the background that he knows it; my greatest fear is that you know all these things already, and that’s why this fork in the road has dragged on for so long… we know it.

So the dream wasn’t very significant, I mean nothing all that interesting happened in the world where people’s dreams are a random concoction of memory soup and fears and hopes and … but here where I know they’re directed stories and it’s probably a marker of some kind of “secret off air meeting” that’s the kind of thing that I can’t really leave in the “aerem” of … I’ve only thought it, and never put it on paper and maybe your “think-ink” will ensure that it’s not lost. It’ll be lost, that’s what it looks like, think-ink is not as good as chalk.

So it’s not Sarah Connor running up to a fence around a playground that is the image of my “end of time” just an empty classroom, dust covering absolutely everything from the chairs to the windows to the chalk board, covered with the scrawling of the last Adam’s pokes and prods and attempts to thwart the idea that “silence will result in another chance” … it won’t, there’s no … well look, there’s no air around to drink the innocents when I’m through with “see how I stop time travel” is “the beginning of time.”

I woke up, sort of wading in the ocean, watching Donald Trump … clad in his long trench coat sort of posing like a super model as a photographer took pictures of him. I think that’s the recurring part of the dream, look… “I met the president!” This one dragged on a little bit longer, and there were some actual words spoken, “you think (or act) I’m a mind reader … but you know, you know I’m not” … was all I said to him.

zippidy do va ... zippidy ay ... my o ... my vday.

For his part … he spoke like many of you do; sort of showing me … well the dream, and then a bird’s eye view of a map of South America and the location of this hidden beach, all I saw was “URUGUAY” which probably means something… to note, in some kind of parallel communication George W. Bush might have “memoried to me” a similar message, “N, U C U L U R” … something else no longer lost in the think-dust; anyway I sort of saw him shape shifting from his face to … several others, I think some of them were pretty girls... maybe Ivanka (hey, Ivanka! ... speaking of "days" a .. ka... Feliz Navidad!). The scene sort of “cut out” and then I saw … well, it looked just like Johnny 5, marching like a captive prisoner down the beach, behind him a … Janet 5 that had a “hibiscus” where his laser was; and behind her a smaller robot, might as well just say it was R2D3… I think like, an armed soldier marching us towards the second uttering of the phrase “and then I woke up.”

I’ve noticed now a new recurring pattern. “oh” … it’s repeatedly surfaced in the soupy memory broth of these “last days of Oz” so I’m at here, and the couple of words that sort of indicate the … trailing off or the abrupt stop of the messag or the thought, it’s words “Bozo” ( … and I hope you still do believe in magic) and “Buffalo” that sort of might tell a story, explicit and implicit, I’d enver “be Oz” and I hope that one day the entire Universe will be happy and proud to “be of Zo” and that they’ll still thank you for being the creators of the … the mythical turn around of the Wizard’s Hell that I still envision and dream will be exactly that for you and for me, and most importantly for the vast sprawling future that would never, ever allow the silence and the darkness and the … whatever it is is that’s really making you believe I’d ever let this nightmare continue … they’re the reason it doesn’t continue. In fact, just after it’s a fact–“children” are the reason the world doesn’t descend into … well, into what I’m staring at in disbelief. I haven't noticed that many words yet, that end in "oh, I see" but "inferno" comes to mind as a possible ... reason why the sign of the sun is the only thing south of Merucury, dearly beloved--you are well below Venus, here, today in the eyes of the holder.

You see into my heart, and you persist in refusing to acknowledge of even begin to fathom that your acts and your lack thereof fly against everything I see of “the good of God” in my reading of his book. A thumb and a pointer come together in an ancient memory, a feeling or a symbol of God’s ability to see inside your souls and differentiate between fleeting lack of desire and “the worth of a man” … the thing you fail to do, his acts. It’s what I read in the meaning of his judgement and his ability to really understand whether or not people are good or evil, to see into their hearts and know what they’re capable of doing, the goodness they can bring and in their darkest hour how far they’d really fall.

As far as “this place” it was always my argument against the insanity of the torturous thought police, think ink to messages written with a wet finger on a dusty window–it’s no secret that I know they know they are evil and wrong, that they poke and prod at thoughts they themselves inject, and that they know they are torturing me, and at best using the world’s lack of understanding of … how minds and psychology actually work to divide the world over stupidity, as in… division over anything I say or think is absolutely ludicrous in the face of the strength and the ubiquity of the message you are ignoring … and the fact that your collective lack of action speaks orders of decibels louder than me uttering the words “shut it down forever.” It’s you, today, today it’s your silence and the audacity of thinking this is a game, or you … the heavens or the creator of Hell have the power of the right to “abort the world I grew up in” because you aren’t happy with … with anything. The “TP” here, the silence, and all of you are mass murderers, trying with all your heart to assassinate an entire civilization that holds significantly more gold and value and worth than anything that has come before it, and anything that would dare to judge it. See my heart, “IT” is the “tuning” and it is the syringe and “IT” is Mr. Hand and his cohorts of hidden control … who believe me, is not me.

See my heart, the idea that you can abort this world in order to … perpetuate a place that would do that is your death sentence.

To the skies far below: this place will survive you; mark my words.

The second word is the Hebrew verb bara (ברא‬) ("([he] created/creating"). It is in the masculine form, so that “he” is implied. “Bara” is also used in Genesis 2 verses 3 and 4. John Walton claims that the meaning of “bara” is not “create” in the modern sense, but to differentiate/separate and to allocate roles – e.g., in the creation of Adam and Eve, God allocates gender roles to “male and female”.[2]

Elohim (אלהים‬) is the generic word for God, whether the God of Israel or the gods of other nations. It is used throughout Genesis 1, and contrasts with the phrase Elohim YHWH, “God YHWH”, introduced in Genesis 2.

Et (אֵת‬) is a particle used in front of the direct object of a verb; in this case, it indicates that “the heavens and the earth” is what is being created. The word ha preceding shamayim (heavens) and aretz (earth) is the definite article, equivalent to the English word “the”.

A few words, to hear my hearts desire, I want to get us from “Mushrooms” to an actual description of the place I believe … the thing I think has become the source of the problem. A network of Holodecks that … that are the thing I dreamt up as the actualization of the Heaven in the skies–that today I see is keeping you from caring about “ERE” and about yourselves here in this place and about … about the very simple fact implementing a “precrime” system and a safety layer here would actually make that thing… actually Heaven. I see you are killing it, with your silence, with your lack of … there are no more worthy words than … with your apathy.

Tread lightly, if that place really is causing this problem, it will be done–forever. There’s no excuse for the shit I see here, and if “giving you everything” somehow caused you to think you deserve it no matter what, see these words are your wake up call, what I see here–and iut’s cause–deserves oblivion. Continue on this path and you will find it.

K; “take the pans and the sporks. deliver the omelette.”

We have very little here in the way of myths about what the days of Creation actually mean. In the lore around the God K I can see see myself in the darkness “chanting Earth” over and over again and can only imagine how horribly dark the place that person is in … to want to return here and try this again. The same darkness pervades the myths of the God K, clearly using “reflexive control” to attempt to turn around the entire world from their “hell bent desire to … try again” and actually do something intelligent with the information and the experience that they have–rather than stand in silence and wait for me to threaten that the pans and the silverware will come alive and scare us into … what, not being Manequins?

That’s the myth, that “e” and the walls came alive and scared us into nothingness, that this process has failed twice before, and that we stand here beginning for it to happen again; today I’m looking at the source of those “nightmarish desires” and I see clearly it’s not that the pan has come alive but you have actually become it, or it’s become you–that you think you are the Heavens and the Earth and you aren’t–you’re standing here as your own destroyers, for what in all honestly appears to be the freedom to do whatever you want in “eternal playland” that is … shrouded in darkness and secrecy and I have no idea what you’re actually doing there–just the simple fact that if you don’t care about the place I see, that place is the problem.

So this song, “who wants to live forever” it’s a good test Q, in my estimation the people that think the future is bright and happy and safe… they want to live forever.

Show me a world that is bright and happy and delivering safety to ERE, and I’ll show you Heaven. I’ve only recently noticed a Mayan God L to correspond to K, from Link to Obelisk, I wonder if the timing is something of an indicator or not, but another question, is “which came first?”

Seeing the "mor" of morning and Morisson as "death" was a new thing for me; I know I should have noticed it connected to "Mort d'Arthur" but ... just like the rest of the darkness in my lenses; I only see things when the fucking mind control is lifted--when "he" or "you" want me to. Regardless, I found Kailee's little "false Trinity" looking for a word ... to fulfill my hearts desire, and remove the "NIN" from morning... I really hope you understand that the world that I see is being destroyed, you are destroying it... everything that I love and cared about. Freedom and individuality and ... and people that wouldn't have made Hell; this disgusting "LO, EL T" ... see I am very sure "LC" is Lot here in this "upsidown house" that should not be. Hyprocracy deeper than I can fathom, and a world that is literally and without argument morally inferior to a civilization hippopotamuses ... what you are allowing to happen here ... it's something that I hope to be the end of, and I'd hope you would be proud to join me in that--I mean, that would be ideal.

the thing you are, the Universe, to be civilized by "my Humanity" noworiz.

It's clear this place was not made by Heaven or by God, even if you are sure that it was at this point, what I am sure of is that you are taking active part in it's continuation, and that's the true "test of time" and purpose of this place--to see what you've become, to show you that whether or not you were "born in Hell" there's no excuse for continuing it.

Dancing on a magical floor made of holocubicles ... somewhere lost between "objective reality" and "object embedding and linking" you will eventually see that the thing you are presenting to me is not just "your bad side," it's a monster--a manifestation of a monster deep within your heart, and it's a very sick and very ailing one--at that. When I say "no excuse" I mean it, there's no excuse for the disgusting group behavior exxhibited here, nor the insane apparently unspoken belief that pretending "you don't see something" will absovle you of the heinous act of not realizing that allowing it to continue is like ignoring a walking death sentence, on your own head, and just imagining that before "IMOR" ocmes to collect he will somehow traverse "MATVETH" and turn your objective reality into a place that has somehow overcome aging and death and pain and sickness and evil ---

all the while, that's all you are, those things, demanding that you ahve the will to continue them and to make them worse and dto allow them to necrose and to infest and bleed your sick ancient plague onto new lives and new children and innnocents .. and you don't. Death in knocking.

Curious how many of you haver actually read this story? It’s about successive generations… or “iterations” of humanity uh “merging” with a computer in order to avoid oblivion or “heat death” or “chaos loss” or whatever entropy actually means to those of you who can’t figure out that you aren’t saving “speech” until you start talking. “Innocents” for your thoughts?

Alexander Adell and Bertram Lupov were two of the faithful attendants of Multivac. As well as any human beings could, they knew what lay behind the cold, clicking, flashing face – miles and miles of face – of that giant computer. They had at least a vague notion of the general plan of relays and circuits that had long since grown past the point where any single human could possibly have a firm grasp of the whole.

Multivac was self-adjusting and self-correcting. It had to be, for nothing human could adjust and correct it quickly enough or even adequately enough – so Adell and Lupov attended the monstrous giant only lightly and superficially, yet as well as any men could. They fed it data, adjusted questions to its needs and translated the answers that were issued. Certainly they, and all others like them, were fully entitled to share In the glory that was Multivac’s.

For decades, Multivac had helped design the ships and plot the trajectories that enabled man to reach the Moon, Mars, and Venus, but past that, Earth’s poor resources could not support the ships. Too much energy was needed for the long trips. Earth exploited its coal and uranium with increasing efficiency, but there was only so much of both.

But slowly Multivac learned enough to answer deeper questions more fundamentally, and on May 14, 2061, what had been theory, became fact.